Post by cjodonnell on Mar 3, 2015 21:18:25 GMT -5
When I was in junior high, there was a group of about a half dozen high school aged kids who would come around. They called themselves the Celtic Lads. A street gang, of sorts. A bunch of young bullies preparing themselves for a life of crime. They came around twice a week, and demanded money, and beat the hell out of anyone who refused to give them their money. And, additionally, they beat the hell out of anyone who was different. Fat kids, skinny kids, ugly kids, pimpled kids…
Short kids…
[O'Donnell draws in his breath, and leans forward slightly, his hair once more cascading over his face. The breath is exhaled, as CJ continues.]
I got my butt kicked by them kids damn near every time they came around. I was tough, even back then, but I can’t say I’ve ever been tough enough to take out six guys all at the same time. I remember, one time, in particular though. See, this morning, I just decided I wouldn’t wait for them to jump me. I decided I’d take them out, as soon as they set foot on campus. So, as soon as I saw them, I rushed them, determined to show them that I wasn’t gonna take their crap.
So, I got the hell beat out of me early that day.
[As CJ shrugs his shoulders, almost uncaring about the events he is detailing.]
But thing was, that beating was worse then usual. Not because I attacked them. But because I didn’t never go down. I refused to get on the ground, and play dead for them. Every time they hit me, I told them to do it again. Every time they told me to give them their money, I called them a different curse word. Each and every time they tried to put me out, I let them know that I was here to stay.
And I remember, sitting in the school nurses’ office, looking down, as blood dribbled from my nose to the ground, and made a puddle before my feet, what that nurse asked me. She said “why?” That nurse wanted to know why in the hell I didn’t just lay down, and spare myself the beating I took. Wanted to know why I wouldn’t roll over, and play dead for them. And, finally, after wiggling a loose tooth around with my tongue, I looked up at her, wiped some of the blood off from my lip, and I gave her the only answer I really could give her....
There wasn’t nothing else I could do.
[O'Donnell pauses for a long, long time. His hair is brushed away entirely from his face, allowing the viewers to get a full view of the man’s face. It is the face of a warrior. Minor scars dot the rest of his features, on his forehead, cheeks, and neck. His nose is crooked, a result of numerous fights. His eyes are a soft brown color, the shade of milk chocolate, but hide behind them a burning, furious intensity. This is a man who has been down the road numerous times, a survivor, who has survived a life time of battles that would have broken lesser men. Finally, after many minutes of silence, CJ speaks again.]
See, even back then, I was a fighter. Even at that young age, I knew that win, lose or draw, I could never back down from a fight. Something in my heart wouldn’t allow it. I have been fighting a long time. And now, every time I walk down the street, and someone recognizes me, every time I go to the doctor and get stitched up, every time a promoter looks at my medical bill, and every time my girlfriend looks at bloodstained towels, I get asked the same question. Why?
I guess they just don’t understand.
Sure, there have been times in wrestling when I could of backed down, but that would of been like taking a back seat to the Lads. And that just isn’t an option for CJ O'Donnell. It isn’t worth it, if I don’t fight for it. Maybe it’ll get me nothing more than a broken body, and a wheelchair. But it don’t matter. I been fighting so long, I don’t know any other way. And even if I did, I wouldn’t take that route. When its all said and done, I don’t want no one to remember anything about me, except for one thing, and that is, I was a fighter. All the titles I’ve won, all the men I’ve beaten, all the cheers I’ve heard, it don’t matter nearly as much as me staying true to what I am, and that’s a guy who fights for everything. Sure, there’s an easy way to do things, but I have never been one for the easiest road in life.
[Another pause, as O'Donnell looks down once more, hair sliding into its position as a mask over his face.]
Some people would say I was crazy to come out and challenge T.J. McDaniels after the ass kicking he delivered to Big Red. Like I said earlier I back down from no one. T.J. just because your are stronger than most men here doesn't mean you can bully them. I have dealt with bullies my entire life and I know how over confident they can be. McDaniels, I know you think this is going to be easy for you. I know you think that because I am a rookie, I’ll just roll over for you and respect you as a veteran. You want my respect then you are going to have to beat it out of me. Just remember who you’re dealing with though. Just remember what kind of man you are facing. Remember, because see, soon, someone’s gonna ask you why. They’re gonna wanna know why you’re in such bad shape. They’re gonna know why you’re in the Emergency Room. And T.J., you can look them square in the eyes and say ... well, its real simple. See, I met C.J. O'Donnell, and then, I got ...
WHAT I DESERVED!
You can watch me ...
Mock me ...
Block me ...
Or ..
Join me ...
What you can not do is ...
STOP ME!
[Fade to black.]